Dames & Broads, Witches & Wizards
by Tangerine-Alert
Summary: An office on the cusp of Knockturn, a private detective and a case of magical contract and murderous tournaments.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything connected to it._

CH1

I was working the day shift for the third week in a row, the warm air not suiting my temperament in this, the dark streets of Knockturn. I shoulda never moved my business here, but after a stint in the prisons over on the Westside I had to move somewhere and here seemed the best place to start again. The muggle world never appreciate a good dick, but here they were crying out for a detective that would rustle the features of the broads and the dames and do what needed to be done to the fellas who didn't know which side of the road they wanted to be on.

The newest client that was shown through the door, now he was a weird one. Seemed like he made the smoke in the office part as he sat down, the fan above us seemed to just pause and think as this young fella walked into the room.

You could tell he was old family, not that he looked it, he looked like he was some runaway from the other muggle world.

He had scars, we all have em, but one on the forehead, that was a new different one. I knew who he was, who didn't, but I didn't judge him on what his past deeds were, not unless it'd affect the case.

"What can I do for ya Mr?"

"Potter." He said, he wasn't relaxed though, wild eyes ones that 'ave seen too much in their young life. I'd known too many people with eyes like that, most of them had been supremos or serial killers and the latter I helped put at the bottom of the river. I poured myself a drink, it was probably too early to start drinking, so said the last broad who shared a bed with me, but I felt like this kid was about to drop something significant onto my plate. I offered him a drink, but he declined, not sure if that was an intelligent thing on his part or maybe he just didn't like the look of my liquor bottle.

The kid's tale was certainly one that needed a drink involved in it.

He'd also landed a good question on my desk and a whole load-a paperwork for my secretary to handle. She was going to hate that. A sweetheart to the dames that came in here but a banshee to me if I spilt any of my liquor on the desk, Dementors cry out if I got any on the files that she keeps so well. She was as valuable any of my other contacts that I used on occasion.

I'd never heard of anyone needing to escape from that good ole magical school, but this kid, Harry Potter, yeah, I knew who he was, but it was nice that he was honest with me.

I had all sorts come in and try to lie to me, some think that they even got away with it. Lying to a private dick.

Seemed someone had entered him into that magical school contest they were having up there this time of year.

"Magical contract." I repeated, it was the term that head of his old magical school used. Dumbledore was his name. I'd heard tales of the old man bandied about. He was about the most powerful fella in some of the old circles. The ones where they liked to police the entry to their clubs and talk about the shifting tides, not the ruff and tumble of the places I usually frequented.

I'd heard fellas and some of the fancy dames talk about these 'magical contracts', but they'd always been willing.

I'd had some clients that wanted me on ones, they didn't trust my private detective ways, and to be fair if I knew the things I'd done, I wouldn't trust me neither.

I'd never heard of one being entered into without a fella or a broad's consent though. This was some funky magic going on with these fellas he was dealing with.

I took the case, not because of the bag of money the kid offered, but because it was an investigation with lots a leads and it means I could finally use my licence for something more than wandering around the Ministry of Magic, pokin' into their business and their paper planes.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizard.

I exhaled the smoke that I'd just lit up, no smokin' all the way from London. The muggles might not have magic, but at least they had cars you could smoke in.

A real classy dame met me at the gates of the school, she wore a scowl that, if it was meant to intimidate me didn't do a good job, I'd faced more intimidating women than this dame. My ex was mighty scary when she got worked up.

The dame, the Deputy Head demanded to know where my client was.

I couldn't say, which was the truth, he was off, hidden away by my secretary somewhere out in the muggle world, away from wand wavers of the magical world. I knew a few places that magic users couldn't touch. A safe place to put clients while I did my own brand of magic here. Though I still had ta think of my client so I'd organised a blood drinker to go and school him while he was away from the supposedly imposing buildin' that lay before me.

I'd been to places like this before, themed restaurants and the like and they never got above their station, but this was the real deal and didn't it know it.

In fact once within, it was like being embraced by a classy dame's bossom, one that was also a mind sucker. You felt it move around in your head and then pop, out go your brains literally both ways.

I don't tend to judge, most of this world's screwed up in some ways or another, and some of my clients are often the ones who're screwed over by the world. Otherwise they wouldn't be comin' to me.

The headmaster, some bumblebee of a man, he was the one of the slimiest that I've seen in a while.

I felt his mind reach out to me, somethin', but once you've been felt up by a mind sucker you always know when another one's comin' to touch you up in a back alley for a couple'a sickles. This wizard was no different. He might have had the sparklin' eyes and friendly disposition on the outside but he was all hooker on the inside.

I put him in his place, it seemed he'd not had a muggle weapon pointed at his chest. I carried it with me, always useful to smack someone around the face with, easier than a wand. Less spell tracks for the authorities to track. But they left us dicks alone, they were too busy bein' paid off to trouble us.

After that I was ready to begin my investigation proper, and the suspect list coudn't have been bigger unless I was investigating that attempted assassination if the Minister back those years before.

-/

_A/N:_

_This is one of those ideas that wouldn't leave me alone. It came out of a review I read that said a HP story was like a 30s detective novel, and this is where my imagination went._

_I know it's pastiche and borderline parody of the noir genre, but it was just an idea that wouldn't leave me alone. _

_That said I realised after completing it this far that it's really hard to sustain this style. _

_Also first person is something I almost never write in. _

_So this is only 2 chapters, 2 short chapters at that._


	2. Chapter 2

CH2

Walking through their hall I took stock of the suspects, almost all of them had it in for my client, he'd seemingly completed the impossible. Ancient magic and all that bullshit. Ancient magic was a bit like a virginity, talked about in hushed tones but when you actually face it, nothin' too scary.

I didn't care about the looks the kids were givin' me. It was the ones who weren't and the ones who'd taken a look and returned to their eating. The clever ones or those under the thumb of their mummies and daddies who'd been schooled in how to behave. Those were the best to get information from, they had all sorts of issues that could be exploited. If you what to do.

The dames from that other school Beauxbatons, they weren't involved in this, that was for sure. I'd done some work for people related to them in the past.

Sure, there were rotten apples on every tree, but the monster of a woman watching over her flock was hard to corrupt, I knew that when I tried.

The other guy from that other school, he was a different story, but it didn't feel right. Not for how this played out. There was something about him, touch of the old stuff, but not with this.

As I lit up and breathed out the smoke in the middle of the room I watched the school masters sittin' up on their high table and thought; one of em sent my client to the hangman's noose.

Now I had to work out which one, even it it meant beating it out of all of them.

-/

I dunno how long I stood in the middle of the room, their great hall. It was pretty impressive if you were into shit like floating candles and the sky.

It'd seen way too much sky, out on stakeouts waiting for some pieces of shit to close on their businesses.

I wasn't just standing there having a good smoke to piss off the headmaster, the one who thought to have a rummage around in my head.

But that was fun too.

It was to see who'd react, see who was playing whom, as they, the fancy ones liked to say.

I left before they were finished eating.

There were a handful of men up there at the front table that was uncomfortable.

Which was good, I hated ta have to interrogate a woman.

Couldn't remember a time that waking up in a strange bed wasn't out of sorts. Usually it was some whore's bed that I'd bedded down. Or sometimes a mistress, looking for a bit of fun of her own. Maybe a wife, though those usually lost me clients. I'd had more than one _crucio_ aimed my way for my wandering cock.

The pub in the village was better than some shit-holes I'd stayed in in the past, though like all bars good and bad they'd serve you the strong stuff in the morning.

Always the best start to the day, a stiff drink and an owl waiting for me. They always stared indignantly, like a dame you'd left in the night and returned stinking of cider and blood.

Inside the scroll something a mole had found for me. It'd cost me a pricely sum, but my client had paid handsomely and more so for my troubles. To get him out of the issues he was in.

It revealed exactly what the fuck-up of a 'Tournament' was going to be about.

There was a boxing match I frequented, and to the detriment of my accounts bet on, boxing, by wizards. There was something primal about magic people hitting each other. It got the ladies really rilled up and ready for a night on the town, and in bed. Prudes, some of them called it barbaric.

That was what this was. Dragons. Muggles thought them of legend, more so than wizards. Dragons had always existed.

But setting kids against em, that was barbaric.

I left before the end, I had an appointment with the potions man, who wasn't at the tournament.

I had to rough him up a bit first, just to show him I meant business, and to show others I meant it too. That's where the butt of a muggle gun comes in useful. Wizards aren't used to the feel of that hitting them.

"Using muggle techniques, how very droll." He said as he spat out blood.

I didn't need to rough him further, I already knew he wasn't my guy. Though he did hate my client's guts for some reason.

I didn't tell him why I continued to rough him up. There's certain places to hit a wizard, that can't be fixed easily by spells and potions. It was less painful to let them heal naturally.

I also wanted the one after my client to think I was going after the obvious choice.

A stupid dick might even fall for it, especially with one of those tattoos on the arm.

-/

I hated myself for not working it out sooner, still 3 days on the job was quicker than some of my cases.

I didn't tell anyone but my client, policing was the authorities job, not that of a private dick.

Seemed he was reconsidering his options.

Maybe it was the blood drinker filling him in on the seedier side of life, I know I've always found it more interesting on the grey side of things.

Or maybe that was just the smoke on the walls, greying up the world.

My client had his answers, including on magical contracts, thanks to a few more contacts I'd used up and a few more I'd put in contact with my client to sort the legal side of things.

It seemed my client was reconsidering his options, he was keepin' me on retainer in case there were any other issues.

Money comin' in, that was always good.

-/

_A/N:_

_I know it seems like a rushed to an ending with this, but it's a style that I couldn't sustain very well. _

_The character of (unnamed) private detective I couldn't get back into after I wrote the first chapter and a half, and when finishing this had to pay attention to how I was writing to prevent slippage of the character. _

_The style and the character is more important than the story, and even then I think the first chapter is better written than the second. The second I wrote about a week later and the muse from the first had mostly deserted me_


End file.
